Back in Tokyo – Ome.
Inside the now-fading dorm, the air had become thin, as if the space itself exhaled its final breath. Takami stood quietly at the back while the team finished clearing off the last of the spirits. It had been a longer fight than usual, a lot of beast-types, all gone now.
And then, just like that, the dorm shattered. Fragments fading into nothingness.
Kiya exhaled sharply, hands on her hips as she tilted her head back. "That was a lot of work," she said.
Wazahi wiped his sword clean and strolled over to Takami with a calm nod. "Thanks again."
Takami looked up, eyes surprised. "For what? Doing nothing? You guys deserve all the credit."
Wazahi shrugged, "Still. You gave us a lot time to prepare with the heads up."
"Ahem." Kiya stepped in quickly, interjecting with a sly grin. "You did help a lot, radio tow— I mean, Takami."
She covered her mouth, realizing she almost let the nickname slip out.
Takami raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just shook his head with a slight smile. "Well, thank you all too. Really." He bowed his head slightly, but then his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He took it out. "Ah... sorry, my mom's calling." He held it up, his face going a bit soft. "Guess I'll be heading home now. Nice meeting you guys."
And with that, Takami slowly turned and walked away, answering the call.
Kiya stared at him, her eyes trailing down his back as he left. Her arms folded unconsciously.
"He's... how could such a good-looking guy be that weak?" she muttered under her breath, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else.
Wazahi raised an eyebrow. "You say something?"
Kiya flinched slightly, panic flashing across her face. "Huh? No. Nothing. Mind your business," she snapped, turning her head quickly and walking off.
Behind her, one of the healers nudged the tank with a grin. "What's up with her?"
The tank smirked. "Who knows."
Kiya turned around halfway down the ruined field. "You could all come with me and leave, or just keep gossiping behind my back, whatever suits you."
The team chuckled lightly, picking up their weapons and bags before heading after her. They were bruised, a little drained, but laughing. The job was done.
Meanwhile, Takami stepped kept walking, phone to his ear.
He was already two blocks away, walking down a quieter residential path lined with vending machines and humming power lines.
"Hello, Mom," he said.
"Takami," Akane's soft voice came through the speaker, "I need a favor."
"Sure, what is it?"
"Can you help me pick up Tomoe and Yosuke from school? I don't think I'll be able to come home early today."
"Oh, that's alright." Takami adjusted the strap of his bag. "I can do that."
"Thank you, sweetie."
He hesitated, then asked with a bit of a squint, "Where are you, though? You sound a bit... off."
"I, uh... went out with a friend, that's all. We got stuck in traffic. You know, frustration and all."
She spoke quickly. A bit too quickly.
Takami didn't push. Her voice didn't sound panicked, just... distant.
"Okay," he said. "Stay safe."
"I will. Love you."
The call ended.
But Akane wasn't in traffic.
She wasn't out with a friend.
She was lying on a hospital bed, white sheets tucked under her arms, a faint beeping from the monitor beside her. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly as the steady hum of the hospital settled around her.
A nurse entered quietly, holding a clipboard and a folded document.
"Ma'am," the nurse said gently, voice trained to carry compassion, "the scans... they still came back positive."
Akane's eyes trembled, her lips parting slowly.
"I'm so sorry," the nurse added, placing the report into her hand. "I know this isn't easy."
She nodded numbly, barely processing the words.
The nurse gave a soft bow and left the room.
Akane stared at the paper. Her fingers trembled slightly. Her eyes scanned the words but didn't read them. She didn't need to. She already knew what they said.
Her throat tightened.
The weight dropped all at once.
Tears welled up, threatening to spill. She lifted a hand and covered her mouth, pressing her palm against her lips as a quiet sob escaped. Her shoulders shook with the pressure of it. She leaned forward, curling slightly as she muffled the cry with both hands now. Her mind flashed to her children.
Tomoe.
Yosuke.
Takami.
"I can't cry here," she whispered to herself, barely audible. "Not now... not yet."
But the tears didn't listen.
They fell anyway.
She clutched the papers against her chest, as if holding them close could somehow stop what they meant from being true.
And in that silent room, where monitors beeped and walls breathed loneliness, Akane tried to summon the strength to be a mother still, to shield her children from the truth. For now.
Back on the street, Takami walked calmly.
He looked at his phone again, sliding it back into his pocket. The sunlight streamed through the trees as he adjusted his jacket.
He didn't know what was waiting for him in the future.
Didn't know the weight his mother was holding in her chest, alone in a hospital.
Didn't know that the battle he was trying to fight, from low rank, from rock bottom. Might soon become more than just about spirits and the system.
It might become more about family. About holding everything together.
But for now, he just walked.
Unaware.
Still hopeful.
Still trying.
Kanawara Academy
[3:40 PM]
Takami strolled down the stone-tiled sidewalk leading to Kanawara Academy, hoodie down and hands sunk deep into his jacket pockets. The wind was calm, and the golden afternoon sun bathed the buildings in a lazy glow. His eyes scanned the campus casually. Noisy clusters of middle schoolers, high schoolers, and the loud cheers of sports kids from the field ahead.
Just as he passed one of the tall academy buildings, a hand yanked him by the sleeve and pulled him into the side corridor, where the shade dimmed the brightness of the day.
It was Yosuke.
"What're you doing here?" Yosuke asked, his voice low, his expression dead serious like Takami had just kicked over a sacred shrine.
Takami tilted his head. "What do you mean by 'What am I doing here?' I came to pick you up, obviously." His brow arched in a half-annoyed, half-confused curve.
Yosuke pointed a thumb over his shoulder, toward the building. "Ahead by the left is the sports field. That means lots of students, my friends, upperclassmen, seniors. And a boatload of people I desperately don't want to talk to."
Takami blinked, unimpressed. "Okay… and how exactly does that stop me from doing what I came for?"
Yosuke groaned and palmed his forehead. "Look, just chill here. I'll get my bag and grab Tomoe too. Stay out of sight, alright?"
Takami leaned against the wall, arms folded like a judgmental side character. "Fine, just be quick about it. I wonder what you're talking about."
Yosuke nodded and hurried off, leaving Takami in the corridor, watching his shadow stretch under the afternoon sun.
Minutes ticked by.
Takami sighed, glancing at the quiet walls around him. Then, a loose sheet of paper fluttered down from the wind, landing by his feet. He picked it up, some student's homework or club form, complete with doodles in the margins.
He looked up, trying to see where it had flown from. His eyes narrowed, then he casually strolled past the building, turning left toward the sports field. The second he did…
It was like the world slowed down.
Dozens of students scattered across the green field. Soccer balls bounced. Water bottles were chugged. Friends laughed on benches. But the second Takami appeared from around the building, something strange happened.
Almost every pair of eyes…particularly the female ones, turned toward him.
He felt it instantly. A wave of invisible pressure.
He blinked. What the hell?
Footsteps padded behind him as someone ran up. "Excuse me! That's mine!" a female voice called out.
He turned slightly. A girl, probably a year or two above Yosuke, stood behind him with her hand outstretched. "That paper, it's mine."
"Oh, here you go," Takami said, extending it with a polite tone.
But she didn't take it.
She was just… staring. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes scanned his face with a dazed expression, cheeks reddening the longer she looked.
"Uh. Hello?" Takami waved the paper a little.
She snapped out of it like she'd been yanked back into reality. "T-Thank you!" she yelped and ran off with the paper held to her chest like it was a love letter.
Takami blinked. "That was... weird."
Then he noticed the noise again. Background chatter. Whispers. Giggles.
He turned toward the field.
Girls were watching him, some trying to act like they weren't, others flat-out waving or winking.
Takami's face twisted into discomfort. Oh no.
Oh no no no.
He hated this. The stares. The attention. The weird tension. He's always hated too much attention, too many eyes on hum.
Right then, Yosuke walked out of the building, Tomoe skipping beside him. He carried both bags slung over one shoulder. The second he saw the crowd around the field and Takami at the center of attention, his soul visibly left his body.
Tomoe, however, perked up. "Big brother!"
She ran toward Takami, who crouched slightly and picked her up with a grin, hoisting her onto his back for a piggyback ride.
The whispering intensified.
"Isn't that Yosuke's little sister?"
"She just called him big brother!"
"Wait… that means…"
"Yosuke has a big brother? That big brother?"
Yosuke's eye twitched.
He walked by Takami with the soulless face of a man whose life had just collapsed. "Please. Let's go home."
Takami, still carrying Tomoe, followed. The three of them left the school gates under a storm of speculation, whispering, and a few sneaky camera clicks.
A Few Blocks Away
Yosuke exhaled hard, blowing air through his nose. "Nope. Nope nope nope."
Takami didn't reply.
Again, Yosuke tried. "Nope."
Silence.
A third time. "Nooooope."
Tomoe finally asked sweetly, "Are you okay, Yosuke?"
"No. No, Tomoe. I'm not." He slumped dramatically. "My peaceful, almost anonymous school life just died in real time. And the killer is my own brother."
Takami smirked. "It's not like I'm gonna attend school with you or anything. You'll be fine."
"That's the problem!" Yosuke snapped. "Now they're all gonna ask me about you. Where you like to hangout, how you do your hair, your skincare routine, your blood type, if you have a girlfriend. Ugh, the questions! But…"
His eyes gleamed.
"…if I do this right… I can manipulate the situation… answer selectively… gain popularity… and rule the school. Muhahahahaaa!"
Tomoe giggled. Takami just chuckled under his breath. "You're a clown."
Back Home – Early Evening
They arrived at their apartment, tired but alive. Takami gently let Tomoe down and reached into his pocket, unlocking the front door with the key.
"Why's the door locked?" Yosuke asked, kicking off his shoes.
"Mom's not back yet," Takami said.
They stepped inside.
Takami headed straight for the kitchen, sleeves rolled up.
"You guys want ramen?" he called.
"Yes!" Tomoe beamed, settling into the couch.
"Sure," Yosuke grunted, plopping beside her.
"Good. Go shower. I'll handle the rest."
Meanwhile, Kyoto - Kameoka
A dorm shattered behind three figures as they stepped out of its fading remains. Bits of spirit matter dissolved in the air like ash on wind.
Ken stretched, grumbling. "That one was lame. No emotion-bound."
"They're just arriving, I guess" Matsuda replied.
Jin dusted his combat vest. "You two handle the rest with the other Spirit Slayers. I'm heading back to Tokyo in the morning."
Ken glanced over. "Already?"
"We need to inform the Chairman. Emotion-bound spirits are returning. If they're reappearing here in Japan, they could be reappearing everywhere."
Ken gave a small nod. "Got it."
A sleek black car slid to a quiet stop along the road. The doors opened with a soft hiss.
Matsuda got in, followed by Ken and Jin.
As the car sped off, the sun dipped lower behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the city.